


How Mocking Was the Hope

by mitslits



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 05:05:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2336303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitslits/pseuds/mitslits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate ending to the heart-wrenching game The Last of Us, where I make it just a bit sadder. You have been warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Mocking Was the Hope

Something is off. Something is off and she doesn't know what it is, but something tells her that she needs to figure it out because it's important. What is it? What the fuck is it? Her hand scratches absently at her old bite, a nervous habit that she's done a million times since getting it. 

But this time something is different. 

A lance of pain shoots through her arm as her fingernails scrape the skin and she freezes. Slowly, ever so slowly, she tugs her shirt up her arm, mind racing a hundred miles an hour and yet not saying anything of importance. The black fabric sliding over her bite makes her wince and now there's a knot tying itself in her chest because this can't mean what she thinks it means, it can't, it can't, it fucking can't. 

It does. 

Her green eyes stare in fascinated horror at her skin. The welts are red and raw and angry and bigger. She's seen this before. Oh, fuck, she's seen this before. 

Suddenly she's gone back in time, standing over the dead bodies of the Fireflies and Tess is pulling back her shirt collar, and the bite is red and raw and-

The clanking of the car's hood as Joel slams it shut jerks her back to the present. Instantly, she tugs down the shirt, biting her lip to keep the tears that she can feel pushing insistently at the backs of her eyes from leaking out. Not immune after all. Not immune. Just a delay. An extra year of life, that was all. And her time had just run out. 

Joel comes around the front of the car, glancing at her and damn him, his eyes see too much. "You alright, Ellie? Listen, I know it was tough back there but-"

"I'm fine," she cuts him off. She is anything but fine. She is scared, she is nervous, and she has never felt like such a little kid. Suddenly all she wants to do is step into Joel's arms, feel him against her, and hear the deep rumble of his voice as he tells her that everything's gonna be okay, baby girl. But she can't. Joel would know that something was wrong and then he'd ask questions. What the fuck was she supposed to say? This would kill him, it would fucking kill him. 

She had been prepared to die, she thinks, back in the hospital. It's not like she hadn't had some idea about what being the cure entailed. That was different. There would have been a point to dying. After all, a year was still something, wasn't it? But there was no point to this, this slow turning, this loss of humanity. It wasn't the way she thought she'd go. Somehow, she had imagined more than just one bullet. Had imagined a hail of gunfire. Had imagined a last stand. Had imagined more, goddammit, more everything. More guts, more glory, more fucking life. 

How mocking was the hope. What had made her think she was so special, that she was the one person that deserved to live more than anyone else? She didn't deserve to be immune. 

"Ellie?" Joel's voice was a mixtue of concern and kindness and it was only then that she realized the tears she'd been trying so hard to hold back were streaking down her face. Joel's hands cupped the sides of her face gently and his thumbs whisked away the salty droplets even as they formed. "What's goin' on, baby girl?"

That is the straw that breaks the camel's back. She collapses against him, feeling his strong arms pull her to his chest, her face buried in his shirt. His hands run soothingly up and down her back. He doesn't press her for information and for that she is grateful, but she knows there is only so long she can keep this bottled up. She can't let them go to Tommy's knowing what she does. She'd never forgive herself if she let anyone else get Infected because of her. 

When she is finally spent she steps back, away from Joel. Wordlessly she pulls up her shirtsleeve, turning her arm so he can see. The devestation in his eyes is worse than anything she could have imagined. 

"But you were immune. The bite's lasted a year. Goddamn it, Ellie, this makes no sense." His hands run through his hair and thoughts flicker wildly through his brain, desperate attempts to come up with explanations or solutions but there is nothing, nothing, just a sense of inevitability at what now has to be done. 

Ellie gnaws on her lip, hating herself for what she is about to ask of this man who has so many times been her savior. "Could you- could you do it? I don't think I'm strong enough." It's the hardest thing she's had to admit, but she knows it's the truth. She can't put the bullet in her head herself. And she doesn't know what she'll do if Joel refuses. 

Joel's head whips up so fast she's almost surprised it doesn't fly off. "Now hold on. We don't know if this means anythin'. It could take another month for you to turn or another year or, hell, you may never turn at all-" the words tumble unchecked out of his mouth, but neither of them believe it. 

She steps forwards and pulls his hands away from his face, holding them tightly in her own. "Joel, you have to fucking do this. I can't be one of those things, alright? You have to fucking help me, Joel, 'cause I am so fucking scared and if you don't I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do."

His mouth tightens and his eyes fill with an unspeakable pain. His head drops to his chest. "I can't lose another kid, Ellie, I can't." The resignation in his voice contrasts with his words. He'll do it, as she knew he would. He'll do it because it would hurt both of them more if he didn't. 

"Hey. Joel. Look at me, okay?" She forces his chin up until her bright green eyes meet his own. "It's gonna be alright, got it? I mean what did I have to look forwards to anyways? More nights filled with your snoring?" She snorts and mock punches his shoulder, knowing it's a lame attempt to lighten the mood, but what else does she goddamn have?

_________________________________________________________________

Joel stares at the girl in front of him and wonders how the fuck he's going to live without her. He's about to put a gun to her head and pull the trigger and she's still cracking jokes as if everything was perfectly normal. 

He thinks back to a time before when his grandmother had died. His mother's fingers ran gently through his hair as he leaned against her, crying, after the funeral. 

"Ssssh, baby, it'll be alright. Grandma's safe up in heaven now. God'll take care of her just like he'll take care of you and me someday, you'll see. Everything happens for a reason. It was just her time."

Well, fuck this God. What kind of person was he that he'd let this happen to someone like her? After all the hell they'd gone through the happy ending had been looming up in front of them only to be gunned down where it stood. And fuck everything happens for a reason. This was simply the well of luck running dry. He'd known it had to happen eventually, but he hadn't thought it was going to be this goddamn painful. 

Drawing in a shaky breath he musters up some semblance of a grin that is leaning more towards a grimace and flashes it at Ellie. "Me snorin'? There've been times when I thought trains started runnin' again, but it was just you sawin' away." 

They both give a nervous, disastrous, heartwrenching chuckle before it falls away into silence. "Are you... are you ready to do this?" Joel forces himself to ask, voice little more than a whisper. 

Ellie nods, her lips pressed tightly together. She picks up the handgun and stares at it for a moment. It's never felt heavier and she feels a certain sense of relief when Joel plucks it out of her hands, fingers wrapping around it so tightly that his knuckles turn white. 

Barely knowing what he is doing, he raises it, placing the barrel against her temple gently, finger twitching. 

"Hey, fuckface", Ellie whispers, her eyes closes and her trembling hands clenched into fists at her sides. 

Joel briefly wonders where she learned that one, but discards the thought almost instantly. It's hardly important. "Yeah, baby girl?"

One glittering green eye cracks open and glances at him, a smile dancing at the corners of her lips. "You never sang for me."

Joel barks out a harsh, twisted laugh. He can't believe that's what she's thinking of at a time like this. "You want- you want me to sing for you?" he asks, voice catching in his throat. 

Ellie nods, her eye sliding closed again. 

"Okay, Ellie. Okay." His own eyes close momentarily as he searches for the perfect song to sing to her. His voice came out thin and thready; he'd never sounded worse, but the smile that split Ellie's face was worth it. 

"You're gone, gone, gone away  
I watched you disappear  
All that's left is the ghost of you.  
Now we're torn, torn, torn apart  
There's nothing we can do   
Just let me go we'll meet again soon."

On second thought, maybe Joel should have picked a song that was likely to rip him to pieces. But Ellie didn't seem to mind and that was what truly mattered here. 

The gunshot formed the last note, ringing out into the night, each fading echo piercing Joel's heart anew. Gradually it faded out until the only sound left was Joel's breathing. One breath, not two, not two as it had been for so long now. Droplets of rain began to pattern the ground around him and the most inane thought came into his head. 'Why does it always rain when things go wrong?'

He tilted his head up, telling himself that the wetness on his cheeks was just raindrops even though he could taste salt on his lips. 

Out of pure curiosity, Joel checked the chamber of the gun. One bullet left. Wouldn't that be fitting? What was Ellie had said once? 'Riley said it would be poetic. To lose our minds together.' Or something like that. It'd be even more poetic to lose their lives together, wouldn't it? A fitting ending for the shitty hell his life had become. The words of the song continued to echo in his mind.

"Now we're torn, torn, torn apart  
There's nothing we can do  
Just let me go we'll meet again soon."

He placed the gun to his temple.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if I'll be doing any more fanfiction for The Last of Us or not, but this is the immediate path my mind took when Ellie was staring down at her arm and I genuinely thought that was going to be the ending for a few seconds. I'm very glad it wasn't, but I still felt the need to write it so there you go. 
> 
> The lyrics are from "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men, a beautiful song that I highly recommend you listen to if you haven't already heard it.


End file.
